


Primroses

by Black_Wave



Series: Burn So Pale [2]
Category: The Good Doctor (TV 2017)
Genre: Gen, Rabbits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 19:36:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13060740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black_Wave/pseuds/Black_Wave
Summary: Shaun finds his home.





	Primroses

**Author's Note:**

> Second fic, part of my series about Shaun and rabbits. Wrote mostly before (and a little after) ‘Not Fake’, but delayed in posting. Not totally happy with some of it, but I hope you enjoy.

Dr Glassman sighed, shifting his feet, as he stood on the doorstep, waiting to be let in. It was early evening, sky painted pink, and he could feel a headache building, tension in his shoulders.

The door opened, a slender, dark haired woman giving him a closed lipped smile.

“Uncle Aaron! Glad you could make it. Lucy will be delighted. Come on in.”

“Nice to see you too, Rachel.”

Glassman followed her through to the living room, noting with a disant amusement the scattered decorations left over from a child’s birthday party, frosting smeared into the carpet, balloons bouncing against the ceiling, and silly string plastered to wall. It had evidently been a fun and exciting day for his grand niece, in this cosy little home.

His head throbbed faintly. It often did, on these visits.

Little Lucy looked up as her mother and Glassman entered, huddled with two of her friends over something in a box. She beamed up at them, a guileless grin, full of innocence, and ran over, arms quickly going around his middle, giggling in excitement.

“Uncle Aaron! Is that my present? What is it? Can I open it?”

“Lucy!” Her mother scolded, as Glassman chuckled. He held the present aloft, out of reach of her curious hands.

“Sorry. Can I have my present, please?”

“Of course, sweetheart. Happy birthday.”

Under Rachel’s watchful eye, he passed the present to Lucy. He would have liked to make a game out of it, as he had when his nieces and nephews had been young, but times were strained now, and he wouldn’t overstay his welcome here.

It would be Shaun’s birthday too, soon. He had a couple of presents ready. A book, a blanket. Nothing big. Not yet. Shaun said he didn’t want love, but there had to be a way to help that.

“Uncle Aaron, I love it! Thank you!” Lucy broke into his thoughts, clutching the storybook to her chest, clearly enthusiastic. It had been hard, finding something neutral enough, but at least she seemed to like it.

“You’re very welcome, my dear. May I ask, what’s in the box, over there?” The box shifted, and one of the children reached in, talking softly. It was a large, plain brown box, and whatever was in it was far more interesting than the various new toys surrounding it, judging by the attention paid.

“Lucy’s rabbits had babies. They’re just about ready for homes.” Rachel walked over, daughter and uncle following, the children moving aside. There were three small kits inside, one white, one black, and one grey, their ears hanging down, only just lopped. Bright eyed and curious, they peered up at the new humans, heads bobbing, noses twitching.

“Emily’s taking home the white one, Henry the black one. Still haven’t found a home for the grey girl.”

Glassman reached out a hand to the small rabbit; she stretched forward, sniffed his hand, and rubbed her chin on his finger. He smiled, and stroked gently down her back. He had the sudden flash of an idea, and his headache lifted slightly.

A baby rabbit was one of the most precious creatures on earth. Few people could resist their love.

“I might know someone who’s interested.”

 

——

 

It was his birthday.

“It’s my birthday today.”

“Yes, Murphy, we know. You’ve said it five times already. If I buy you a drink, will you shut up about it?” Jared smirked, to soften the words; couldn’t blame the guy for being excited, clocking out after a boring shift, but the repetition was a little irritating.

“I do not drink.”

“He’ll buy you a coffee or something, then. Come on, Shaun, Dr Glassman’s waiting.” Claire grabbed her backpack, present secured inside, and lead the way up to Glassman’s office. He’d told Shaun he had a surprise waiting for him, and to pick it up at the end of their shift. She was curious, especially after hearing some of the gossip going around.

She doubted it would be a car, though. She can’t see Shaun driving anytime soon.

Melendez wandered out, looking vaguely irritated. He pretended not to know or care much about his subordinates’ personal lives. He was failing, but nobody needed to know that. Mostly he just invited himself along, to see what they were up to. Browne raised an eyebrow at him, but Murphy seemed too excited, rocking slightly in the elevator, and Kalu just looked bored.

Dr Glassman looked up as they entered, mildly surprised by Melendez, but quickly turned to his young friend.

“Happy birthday, Shaun. I hope you’ve enjoyed it so far?”

“Yes, it has been pleasant. Thank you.”

“That’s good. Good.” Glassman shifted, revealing a small box on his desk. He cleared his throat, a little nervous, and adjusted his glasses.

He really, really hoped he hadn’t misstepped.

“Ah. Now, Shaun, I know what you said about love. But I think you’re making a mistake, and I hope you can see that, in time. Because there’s something here that wants your love.”

Shaun came forward, as Glassman removed the lid of the box. Inside -

 

Inside, there was a rabbit.

A grey lop kit. Eight weeks old. Blinking big brown eyes, tiny nose twitching, ears swung forward. Bright, alert, and curious.

For a moment, Shaun couldn’t think. He was overwhelmed. All he could see was Steve, was Peter -

Then the rabbit bobbed it’s head, facing him. Shaun liked rabbits. He leaned forward, as the rabbit looked up at him. He could barely breathe.

“You can pet her, if you like.” Dr Glassman’s voice seemed to come from far away, but Shaun must have heard him, for almost immediately his hand reached out, touching the rabbit. His hand trembled.

She was soft, and warm, and small. He pressed a careful finger to her side, feeling her breathing. He could picture it, the small lungs working, her little heart pumping. The anatomy of such a fragile creature. And then, and then -

She turned, sniffed his hand, and licked his palm.

Oh.

“Oh. She likes me.”

She wasn’t Peter. But she was a rabbit; soft, and warm, and loving, and patient, and -

And alive. He could love something that was alive.

Very, very carefully, he placed a hand under her chest, and one against her bottom; she was so small, she almost fit in one hand. He quickly brought her to his chest, resting against his heart. She settled easily, happy enough to be held.

He wasn’t good with metaphors.

But in that moment, he felt like he was coming home. He wanted to feel that forever.

 

“You got him a rabbit?” That was Melendez, as Shaun turned to Glassman, smiling. The older doctor smiled back, kind and pleased; he knew that they would be inseparable, now. It would be good for Shaun, to have something to focus on outside of work. “Thank you; she is a good rabbit.” 

“Does he even know how to care for a pet?” Jared broke in, concerned. Years of hearing ‘a dog is for life, not just for Christmas’ made him wary about giving live animals as gifts. Especially to someone who sometimes struggled to look after himself.

“Yes; I know what she needs. She is eight weeks old and needs unlimited water, unlimited pellets, nineteen percent protein and eighteen percent fibre, and unlimited hay, alfalfa and Timothy, until seven months of age, after which she needs unlimited Timothy hay, but pellets decreased to only half a cup per six pounds of body weight, and two cups of green vegetables per six pounds of body weight.”

“She needs to be housed in a suitable cage, six times larger than she is when fully grown. Eight square feet of enclosed space with twenty four feet of exercise space, at least. This space must be rabbit proofed, to prevent damage and accidents. She can be litter trained.”

“She will need to be spayed when four months old, to reduce her chances of ovarian and uterine cancer. The lack of hormones will also make her calmer and more easily trained. I can get her a companion; rabbits are very social. She might like a friend when I’m at work.”

“She needs things to chew; her teeth will grow continuously throughout her life. Toys such as safe woods, cardboard boxes and paper bags are acceptable. Some toys will need supervision.”

“She needs to be handled gently. She is very young and very fragile. She needs patience. She needs to be talked to softly. She won’t understand yelling. Loud noises and sharp movements will scare her. She doesn’t like to be squeezed. She needs time and space to feel comfortable. She needs to be understood. She needs love.”

It was the most words he had ever said to his colleagues; perhaps the most words he had ever said at once. There was more he could have said, more about rabbits, but he had become somewhat stressed by the end. The bunny shifted in his arms, snuggling closer, content to be handled for now.

“Thank you for the information, Shaun. I have no doubt that you will take great care of her. I’ve been doing some research, too; I’ve got a cage, some food. We can get her better things as she grows. Your building allows animals; just don’t get in trouble with your super. If we talk to your neighbour, I’m sure she’ll look in on her when you’re away.” Glassman spoke, after the stunned silence, watching Melendez out of the corner of his eye. The other man looked lost in thought, considering a new side to Shaun.

“She’s very cute. What are you going to call her?” Claire reached out a hand to carefully stroke the bunny; it was hard not to stand there and coo at the sight of them. There was something about them that looked solid, together. Shaun was holding the rabbit the way he worked in surgery; confident, and sure of his place.

“I don’t know yet. What do you think should be her name?” Mindful of how being in the air could stress her out, Shaun placed the rabbit back in the box, watching as she scuffed her paws and began washing her face, getting the stinky human smell off her.

“How about Bonnie?”

“Bonnie. Okay. Bonnie is good.”

Bonnie promptly decided to start chewing the box.

Shaun breathed, and felt at home.

**Author's Note:**

> Ugh, I hate writing dialogue. And action. I do like writing rabbits.
> 
> For some reason, I picture Glassman as being Jewish, and having a difficult relationship with his family. I have no idea if this will later be Jossed.
> 
> So, Bonnie! Ain’t she sweet? I’m basing her partiality on my own big black and white lop, Amy. Amy’s a real character. I think Bonnie will be better behaved. And don’t worry, she’ll have a friend someday.
> 
> (Sidenote: I kinda ‘ship Shaun and Melendez, but I’ll probably never actually write it)


End file.
